


Wicked Games

by TheDarkLordMegatron



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dead Body, Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, World of Ruin, skeleton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordMegatron/pseuds/TheDarkLordMegatron
Summary: He would never understand what it was exactly that possessed him to return to Insomnia and alone at that.It was stupid. Completely and utterly stupid, and if he did by some miracle make it back to Lestallum in one piece, which he seriously doubted he would, Amicitia was going to kill him just so Leonis could revive him and kill him again. But love made even the smartest of men do stupid things.





	Wicked Games

He would never understand what it was exactly that possessed him to return to Insomnia and alone at that. 

It was stupid. Completely and utterly stupid, and if he did by some miracle make it back to Lestallum in one piece, which he seriously doubted he would, Amicitia was going to kill him just so Leonis could revive him and kill him again. Had Iris not mentioned that one of her scouts claimed to have seen Glauca’s armour whilst doing recon, he would have happily stayed in Lestallum organising the remaining Glaives, all while ignoring Insomnia as he had successfully done so for the past nine years. As it was, his stupid ass just had to go and dig through the ruined city with nothing but a torch, a bottle of water and some vague idea as to where he should begin his search.

That being said, if Cor hadn’t been dealing with the movement of a large caravan, the Marshal would already have been scouring the city, looking for whatever remained of Drautos. Back before the fall, it had been no secret among the Citadel’s staff that the Marshal of the Crownsguard and the Captain of the Kingsglaive had been intimately involved. Pelna never had managed to erase the image of them fucking like a pair of rabbits out of his head. 

He and many others had questioned Leonis’ loyalty after the news of Drautos’ betrayal began to spread. Cor had been less than impressed when the Hunters had briefly turned against him, informed him that they would not follow the man who had slept with the enemy. It had taken months or hard work, Six knows how much blood, and the word of those who had survived Insomnia because of him, before people had begun to trust him again. 

Looking back on it, he really ought to have admitted his own guilt, let the people attack him instead of the man who would give everything to protect the people of Lucis. But he was a coward and he’d stayed silent. While he was not here for Glauca and could not carry whatever remained of him back to Lestallum, not when he had every intention of finding Nyx, he could at least return a portion of that armour as an apology for his cowardice.

There was, however, a little hope in his heart, that should he find the traitor, Nyx might be somewhere nearby. The last time he’d seen him, he’d been wearing the Ring of the Lucii, the damned ring that Leonis claimed would burn a man not of royal blood from the inside out; if that were the truth then he very much doubted his husband would have walked away in one piece.

A shriek from up ahead had him throwing himself behind the nearest piece of debris, the remains of an upturned van, and smothering the light from his torch. Taking care not to make any sound or give away his position in any manner, he peered around the edge of the metal just in time to see an Iron Giant emerge from behind a building. As was just his luck, the Daemon paused and looked in his general direction. Holding his breath he stayed completely still, waiting with bated breath for the blasted creature to move on.

After what felt like an eternity it did wander off, though not before crushing a few minor Daemons beneath its feet. Staying still, Libertus watched on for a few more minutes until he was absolutely certain that no other Daemons would be making an appearance. 

“Okay,” He muttered softly, switching his torch back on and looking around. He had two options. One, navigate his way through a minefield of sinkholes, glass and god knows what else, risking making one hell of a noise and potentially killing himself by falling into a hole. Or two, clamber over the seriously unstable looking stack of concrete and steel that had to have come from one of the collapsed skyscrapers. As if making his decision for him, a group of imps appeared in the same place as the Iron Giant had been. Concrete it was.

Cracking his knuckles he shook his hands out and slowly climbed the unstable mound, taking great care to be as silent as possible. The last thing he needed was for the imps to see him and decide he’d make a good dinner. But for once luck was on his side. Nothing fell out from beneath him and there were enough footholds that he was able to scale the debris relatively quickly. Once atop the pile, he glanced back at the imps and was relieved to find them squabbling among themselves a fair distance away. 

He made sure to climb down a few paces, ensuring that he was suitably hidden from sight before raising the torch and looking around. Something had happened here, that much was certain, if not by the sheer amount of destruction, then by the fact it looked like a giant foot had literally crushed the entire area. Nothing immediately jumped out at him, Daemonic or armour-wise, so he continued to move further down. 

Had it not been for the fact that his foot literally sank through the metal, successfully through his boot in the process, he would have easily missed the remains.  


“Fucking-!” He hissed, instinctively reaching down to grab hold of the injured leg. It was only then, as he attempted to pry his leg free without causing any further damage, that he realised what it was his foot had gone through. Despite being warped and rusted, the result of being exposed to the elements for nearly a decade, the metal was still somewhat recognisable. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Very slowly, he moved closer, taking care to keep his foot as still as possible when it became clear that he’d gone through the chest “Of all the gods damned rotten luck” Sighing heavily, Libertus moved his torch into a more convenient position, illuminating the small area.

Muttering under his breath, he placed a hand on either side of the armour and very slowly wriggled his foot free, hissing as the sight of his shredded leg. That was going to be a bitch to walk on but was certainly not worth using a potion on. The boot, on the other hand, was going to be a hard one to explain away, the younger Amicitia was going to murder him, she’d only just given him the new pair.

Once certain that his leg was not going to kill him, he turned his attention to the remains of the man he had once called ‘Captain’. For a moment he did nothing but stare. Had it not been for the armour he’d never have been able to identify him, after all, everyone’s bones looked the same. 

Removing the body, well skeleton really, was impossible. Whilst he did admittedly have an empty bag, he’d brought it with the intention of finding his husband and giving him a proper burial; not to carry the remains of a traitor back to the one person on the planet who missed him. Personally, he would much rather leave the man’s bones to continue to rot or eventually be eaten by a Daemon, whichever came first; but at the same time, he’d seen the way Cor sat upon the rooftops after a long shift, running his fingers over a well-worn ring.

“By the Six I hate you,” He muttered softly, closing the distance between them. Leaning over the armour he paused. There, laying embedded in what would have been Drautos’ chest, was one very familiar Kukri. With shaking fingers he reached out to cautiously run his fingers over the hilt. “Nyx,” He paused for a second before pulling it free and sitting back on his heels. There was no mistaking the detailing and the familiar if damaged beads. So Nyx had been the one to kill him. Not that he was particularly surprised, Nyx was a stubborn bastard and considering Nyx hadn’t met up with him, he suspected that Drautos had been the one to seriously injure, if not kill, his husband. Although he suspected the Ring of the Lucii had something to do with the significant lack of a second body; unless Nyx had somehow managed to put some distance between himself and the traitor.

“You fucking bastard.” He hissed, holding the Kukri over his heart and glaring at the skull. “You absolute fucking bastard!” In a fit of rage, he grabbed hold of the nearest movable object, a fairly large piece of debris, and slammed it onto the skull, watching in satisfaction as the bone gave way and crumbled. “I hope you burn in whatever hell awaits you!” He repeated before slamming the rubble down once again, suitably destroying the remaining shards. The shriek of an imp had him falling silent, Nyx’s Kukri held firmly in place against his chest. He sat in silence, waiting for the imps to move on. 

When it became increasingly obvious that the creatures were not going to be leaving any time soon, he slipped the bag off his shoulder and tucked the blade away among his supplies, pausing only briefly to touch it once more. With it secured safely, Libertus turned back to Drautos’ remains before reluctantly leaning back over the armour and digging around inside. He hadn’t expected to find the ring, but it was a pleasant surprise to find a simple gold band and chain buried among the bones of his neck. 

“I’m not doing this for you,” He whispered, sparing a quick glance to the top of the debris pile and the imp that had crested it “This is for Cor. He didn’t deserve any of the shit you put him through. And if you think for a moment any of us will ever forgive you for what you’ve done, you’re wrong. I will never forgive you for killing Nyx. Never. You’re a traitorous piece of shit and every single child born will know that it was you who did this to us.” With the ring safely in his possession, Libertus clambered to his feet and stumbled off in the opposite direction to whence he came, the screams and footsteps of the Daemons spurring him on.

Of course, Drauatos screwed him over again. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to look for his husband because the gods-damned traitor took up too much time and still managed to hurt him despite being long dead. With shaking fingers he freed his phone from his pocket, activated the voicemail and continued running. He shouldn’t have gone alone. He should have just bitten the bullet and brought Cor with him. That being said, if he was going to die, if a Daemon did decide to make him dinner, he’d gone down with Nyx’s voice still ringing in his ears.

“Hey Libs, it’s me. Just making sure you’re okay. You’re not replying to any of our texts and I’m just a bit worried. Give me a call or drop me a text when you get the chance. Love you.”

“To listen to your message again, press one. To save your message press two-”

“Message saved. Next message. Received on Friday the sixteenth of May, M.E. 756 at eight o’three am.”

“Hey Libs, it’s me. You didn’t come home last night and you’ve got me worrying. Please tell me you’re okay or do me a favour and text Pelna. I just want to know that you’re somewhere safe. I’m heading off to the signing now, Drautos called me in early, so I’ll try to give you a ring when I get a chance. Love you.”

“To listen to your message again, press one-”


End file.
